Puppet Without Strings
by Seena58
Summary: That is all Cloud is. But with no puppeteer, where will he go? Who is he now without it all? It's time to do some reminiscing. [Oneshot]


Disclaimers: FFVII does not belong to me.

Warnings: Cloud angst, spoilers if you haven't finished the game; mindless rambling.

"_italics" _indicate memories and descriptions from 'another dimension' to say the least.

--- Puppet Without Strings ---

--- One-shot ---

"_That is what you are… in the end."_

"_No soul, no life of your own. You are nothing to the real world."_

"_When the strings are pulled, you move. But if not, you do not. Nothing will change it."_

"_You are what you are."_

"_Nothing more than a puppet in my eyes."_

Dawn broke slowly, gradually; the sky turning shades lighter as time passed by. Gentle breezes would roll in; rippling the grass on the fields and making the trees bend to their will as a thin trail of light made itself present. It was a small thing at first, no use for those who would eventually awaken, but as the sun rose higher above the horizon the light became stronger; full of energy and warmth.

And yet he felt no warmth at all.

He tilted his head up, watching as morning slowly came over the sleeping lands, some faint sound of a bird or another ringing over the endless fields of land he would soon be traveling across once more. A gloved hand passed through spiky blonde hair and dirt surrounded him where he sat, settled and inanimate.

His thoughts landed on nothing, would never be anything, and only one thing drove him onwards to what would most likely be their doom in this fighting to save the land. It wasn't just one life they were now protecting; it was millions, and they did not even know it.

Funny, never before this time would he have tried to help someone else with no benefit of his own. It wasn't that he was selfish, merely… detached in terms of knowing other people. But now, with the responsibility of leading an entire team to kill someone he had thought to have been dead…

Sephiroth.

Jenova.

Meteor.

Cetra.

Himself.

They were all connected in the end, despite his own self denial, and it was kind of painful when the truth was so blindingly obvious. He was a part of Jenova, cursed to be a puppet of her will, and that of her child. Sephiroth. The one person of whom he had once been awed at. The silver haired man was once a high figure in Shinra, but that was before he had snapped. And now…

Now was something along the lines of a reckoning.

But he didn't know if he could even do it. It was something he had never expected to see himself in; always believing that someone like Zack would deal with the problem if necessary.

But no, Zack was gone. Aeris was gone. Innocent people had been slaughtered.

And where had he been that entire time? There, but not there.

His body was not his own.

He was being controlled by another.

---

"Cloud… you cannot go against the puppeteer's commands," whispered a voice, one that continuously plagued his mind to the deeper ends of pain and torture. The blonde tried to ignore it, focusing on the bleak yet lively scenario before him. It was more frequent now, something that he hated to admit; and there was nothing he could do about it.

It was because of this – of them – that he had hurt his teammates and nearly killed Aeris himself, who had known her own fate for a long time. It was painful to think about and very upsetting and he knew that it was his fault.

If only he had been a bit stronger… if he could have resisted the invisible strings that had pulled him into this mess. But no, he was weak, a lot weaker than the others, and they had made him their leader.

He was a puppet to those he fought to get rid of, and he was weaker than what the others would ever believe. Broken so many times, lost on his own, unable to see ahead of him.

They had toyed with him, hurt him, and shattered whatever semblance of hope without much trouble. And then what had he become? A puppet; nothing to them. Then it was because of him that Zack was gone and dead; and it was his fault that Aeris was also gone. She had been strong, like Zack; and he had killed them. It was his fault. It always was.

But when he joined AVALANCHE as a mercenary all those months back, they seemed to treat him with respect. And then the spiraling events led him to being the leader of a gang who would destroy the most powerful being on earth.

So why did it leave such a hollow feeling within him? Why was it that he still felt so empty after it all? Was it because he knew the truth, while the others refused to see it? Even Tifa…

She had known him since they had been children; they had grown up together in the town of Nibelhime and although she had seen some of his personal pain in the Lifestream… it wasn't enough. She still didn't _know_ him…

Yet in a way it was a good thing. If they didn't know him for what he really was, then maybe they would ever ask. They wouldn't need to worry about it and he could continue with his life without conviction. Sometimes he didn't even know what he was going on about, but it was all still good.

But the voices would not leave hi, alone. It never would, he suspected. It was just too much; it was a part of him, from that time to now, and forever. He should have been the one to die, yet he was not.

So many other people out there were strong; and he was not.

They had a life and family; he had none, his mother long dead.

Innocent people were dead.

Zack was dead.

Aeris was dead.

Sephiroth was gone.

Shinra was finally in ruins.

Why wouldn't the pain leave?

He no longer knew what he was searching for; what he was waiting for. It was all nothing to him now. In a way, in the back of his mind, maybe he was hoping that once everything was back to normal and meteor no more, he would be free from it all. But no, it was still there.

The voices. The pull of invisible strings on his will.

It seemed that he would never be free from it.

That was the problem in the end, and he knew that he would have to face it on his own, or never face it at all. Both choices weren't exactly all that positive in the end, but there was nothing he could do about it.

So long it had gone for… the torture just never ended for him.

He was the puppet and that would never change.

---

_Pull the strings, watch them move; try to fight, failed once more. You are nothing, you were never anything, and that is the cruel and fruitless loop against us all._

_Don't deny it, it won't let go, you have to obey your master._

But the master was dead, and there was no one left. Cloud knew that the second Sephiroth was gone he was severed. He was no longer being controlled, but now he was lifeless in so many terms. Because now there wasn't a puppeteer to control him, and if that was a good thing or bad thing, he no longer knew.

The blonde wrenched his thoughts away from this, more or less alone from the rest of the world. It was still early, so Tifa and the rest of the team wouldn't be up for a long time. He didn't mind their company and all, but they had split, really, now it was over.

But was it?

The faint feeling of invisible strings pulled once more.

Was there another puppeteer waiting to control him once more?

--- Fin ---


End file.
